Catch Me Twice

by Charmaine Pauls

  It’s a low blow. Apparently, in Jan’s over-excited and inexperienced state, he stabbed the poor woman twice in the ass before he managed to put it in the right place. Normally, I wouldn’t use the information Shiny shared with me, which he heard from Snake, who heard it from Jan’s sadly disappointed father, but they need to be put back in their place.

  Jan pulls his face into an ugly mask of hatred. “You filthy little slut. Maybe I’ll pay you a visit and show you how a man hits both holes. Your slut mother can watch, or maybe Kallie can teach her a trick or two.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Kallie taunts.

  “I just want to know if I should file a harassment complaint with Sarel.”

  Sarel is our local police officer, and he’s old-fashioned when it comes to upholding law and order. He’d take the skins off their backsides if I tell him what they said.

  The handbrake groans as Jan jerks it up. He’s out of the truck and in my face before I have time to blink. The grocery bag drops as he shoves me with a palm against my shoulder. Losing my footing on the lumps of dry mud on the boulder, I stumble backward with flailing arms. The earth disappears from under my feet as I fall back into the ditch. The air leaves my lungs with a humph when my ass hits the ground.

  Pain shoots up my coccyx. Lying in the rocky bed between nettles and thistle thorns, my vision goes blurry with anger. I ball my hands into fists. My fingers close around something round and hard. I lift a heavy lump of dry clay and hurl it with all my might at Jan’s head. The compacted sand explodes on his temple. Brittle particles fly everywhere. The impact sends him staggering. Dust rain downs on his face and torso. He shakes his head and blinks a couple of times. When the worst of his shock wears off, blind fury replaces his stunned expression. Before he can take a step toward me, I hit him again, this time aiming for his chest. He ducks, trying to escape the blow, and takes it fully in the face.

  “Fuck,” he hurls, spitting sand and blowing a string of mud-colored snot from his nose.

  I’ve already gathered more ammunition. I pepper his knees and stomach, leaving the last for his crotch. When the clot of clay hits his balls, he folds double. Wheezing, he cups his testicles.

  “Kallie, you fucking idiot,” Jan yells in a high-pitched voice. “Get the fuck out and help me.”

  When Kallie jumps out, I’m ready, but he’s more agile than Jan. He folds his thin, rubber-like body to the right, neatly ducking the lump meant for his head.

  Fear sets in. I can’t fight off both. Not moving my eyes away from the men, I claw through the dirt on either side of me in search of a weapon, but there are no more clumps. I grab at stinging nettle and pull out weeds by the roots.

  “Fucking cunt,” Jan screams, making his way to the ditch.

  I’m scrambling backward, trying to get myself out of the bottom, but my feet lose purchase, and I slide down again. Just as Jan jumps down next to me, Eddie comes charging down the road with the pellet gun he uses as protection in the shop.

  “You there,” he calls as he waves the gun. “Get away from the girl or I shoot you in your sorry asses.”

  Jan and Kallie pause. Everyone knows Eddie can shoot the dot on the I on a can of Iron Brew.

  Eddie skids to a halt a next to us. Aiming the gun at Jan, he says, “You go now, or I shoot.”

  “Go back to your shop, Chinaman,” Jan says. “This isn’t your fight.”

  My heart drops to my stomach when Eddie lifts the barrel, pointing it away from the guys and up in the air. Just when I think he’s going to abandon me, a shot goes off. The sound reverberates in my skull and rings with a metallic echo in the air.

  “What the fuck?” Jan says, giving Eddie an incredulous look.

  Eddie aims again. “Warning shot. Required by law.”

  “He’s bluffing,” Kallie says.

  Bang. Another shot rings in my ears. It takes me a second to register the aim of the barrel has changed, right before I register Kallie’s thin shriek.

  Two seconds of silence follows as each of us seemingly tries to get a handle on what happened. Where did the bullet go?

  “He shot me,” Kallie cries, turning around with his neck strained backward like a dog chasing its tail. “He fucking shot me in the ass.”

  “You fucking crazy Chinaman,” Jan cries, clambering out of the ditch.

  “That enough warning for you?” Eddie asks, keeping the gun pointed at Jan.

  “He shot me! Ow. Ow, it fucking hurts. Son of a bitch. Ow.”

  “Shut up,” Jan says, grabbing Kallie’s elbow and dragging him to the truck. “Get on your stomach in the back. If you get blood on my seats I’ll finish you off personally.”

  Pointing a finger in Eddie’s direction, Jan says, “I’m reporting you, you crazy fuck. You’re going to jail.”

  “I’m reporting you first,” Eddie says from behind his gun. “This is my property. I have a right to protect myself and my customers. The law says so.”

  “Ow,” Kallie hurls as Jan roughly pushes him into the back and slams the door.

  With a last murderous look in our direction, Jan gets behind the wheel. The tires kick up sand and pebbles as he takes off into the direction of town.

  When only a dust cloud and tracks are left, Eddie offers me a hand.

  “You all right?” he asks, helping me out of the ditch.

  I dust my dress, trying not to show how shaken I am. “Thanks for helping me. Wait. Why did you help me?”

  “They’re assholes,” he says, as if that explains everything.

  He smells of toffees and incense, of glass soda bottles exchanged for candy and happier days.

  Sniffing away my tears, I give him an insufficient, “Thank you.” I don’t know what I would’ve done if he hadn’t shown up. “I’m really sorry I made fun of your silk shirts with the other kids.”

  “It’s nothing. You were only nine years old. What does a nine-year-old know of style?”

  “I can’t believe you really shot him.”

  “It’s just a little metal ball. It won’t kill him.”

  “They’ll have to make a statement at the hospital. The hospital will notify the police.”

  “I’m not scared. I’ll make a statement with Sarel. He’ll back me up. He knows the kind of trouble those no-good boys get into. Just last month, they tried to break into the shop. A security camera caught them. Just in case, you better go make a statement too.”

  “Sure. Of course.”

  “You’ll be all right now?”

  “Yes. Thanks again.”

  “Good.” He throws a thumb over his shoulder. “I have to get back to the shop.”

  “Don’t let me keep you more than I already have.” When he walks away, I call after him, “Be careful. They may come back.”

  He only waves his gun in the air.

  A strange silence dawns around me when Eddie is gone. It’s surreal, as if none of the drama has ever happened. A bird chirps somewhere in a tree. The sound of the transport truck engines at the brick factory is an ugly but familiar, distant buzz.

  Gathering my scattered groceries, I pack the dirty items back in the bag. Hot, unwelcome tears burn their way to my eyes, no matter how hard I try to blink them away. My vision turns too blurry to see where I’m going. I walk on pure instinct, knowing this road and its every pothole and bump like the back of my hand. At the empty plot serving as an illegal garbage dump, I flop down onto a heap of sand. Broken things stick up from the debris—pots missing handles and one-armed dolls. When I was young, this was my treasure hunting ground. I found many discarded toys here. This is what I feel like as I let my tears out for the first time after I told Jake we have to get married. Broken, discarded, garbage. I cry big, fat, ugly tears with loud sobs. I cry until my head hurts and my eyes are puffy.

  When I have no more tears left, I feel strangely purged. I wept out all the poison that was trapped in my chest. A newfound calmness invades my senses as I
place a hand over my belly. Determination beats in my heart. I have not only myself to live for, but also my baby. Like my mom said, the choice is in my hands. I’m not going to waste my young life. I’m not going to let the Jans and Kallies ruin it.

  I choose to be happy, and it starts now. I’ve been holed up in the trailer ever since I found out I’m pregnant, hiding away in shame. It ends now.

  Getting to my feet, I dial Nancy.

  “I feel like going out tonight,” I say when she answers.

  “Really? Wow.”

  I can’t blame her for being surprised. I’ve refused to go anywhere during the last three months, no matter what she suggested. Tonight, I don’t only want to go out, I want to feel pretty again.

  “What do you have in mind?” she asks.

  “Sugar Loaf.” It’s Friday night. That’s where the action will be.

  “Count on me. I’ll pick you up.”

  After a tuna-mayo toasted sandwich, I shower and wash my hair. My skirts and shorts don’t fit around the waist, but the black dress I bought last year at the Chinese store has enough stretch to cover my bigger breasts and belly. It reaches my thighs, leaving my legs, which I’ve always considered my best feature, exposed. My boots add a casual touch. My denim jacket finishes off the outfit.

  I consider my clean-scrubbed face in the mirror. The wound from Hendrik Basson’s belt has healed, but it has left a small L-shaped scar. My freckles are more pronounced from the time I spent outdoors instead of in a classroom. Applying a coat of foundation, I dab concealer onto the scar to soften it. The one advantage of being pregnant is that I have a natural glow on my cheeks and my unruly hair is, for once, behaving. I add a dusting of bronze eye shadow, mascara, and colored lip-gloss, and then I’m ready.

  My mom gives me an approving look when I return from the bathroom. “I’m so glad you’re going out. It’ll do you good.”

  My mom doesn’t ask why Jake isn’t coming around any longer. She knows I’ll tell her when I’m ready. I also haven’t told her what happened at Eddie’s today, because I don’t want to worry her, but she’ll hear it from someone sooner than later. I’ll tell her in the morning when she’s had a good night’s sleep. Not now when she’s just returning home, tired after a grueling day’s work.

  A horn honks outside.

  “That’ll be Nancy.” I grab my bag and kiss my mom on the cheek. “I won’t be back late.”

  “Have fun, and be safe.”

  Nancy whistles. “You look nice,” she says when I get inside.

  “It’s kind of your mom to let you use her car.”

  She pouts. “There’s only one snag.”

  “No drinking and driving?”

  “You really have to get your driver’s license. Since you’re pregnant, you can’t drink anyway.”

  “That’s exploitation,” I say with a laugh.

  “Uh-uh. That’s benefitting.”

  “We have five months left. I guess I better learn quickly.”

  On the way, I fill her in about what happened the afternoon. When I get to the part where Eddie shot Kallie in the backside, she laughs so hard she has to pull off the road.

  “I can’t believe Eddie did that,” I say. “I never thought he had it in him.”

  She wipes away tears of laughter. “That’ll teach them a lesson, one they’re not going to live down for a very long time.”

  At Sugar Loaf, the field that serves as a parking lot is already packed. Sugar Loaf is a house with a thatched roof on the riverbank with tables under strings of colored lights on the lawn and a covered dance floor on the side. The pub dinners are affordable, and there’s live music on a Friday night.

  We grab a table outside where we can watch the entertainment. Tonight’s performer is a pretty blonde accompanied by a guitarist. When she launches into a popular country song, a group from the bar forms a line on the dance floor.

  Nancy squeals. “Let’s join them.”

  “Line dancing isn’t my thing.”

  “Oh, come on. It’s easy.” She grabs my hand and pulls me to my feet. “Just follow my lead. It’ll be fun.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It’s the first time in months you’re coming out, and you’re all dressed up.” She raises her palm. “All or nothing, what do you say?”

  “All,” I laugh, high fiving her.

  The heaviness that’s been pushing me down lifts a fraction. It’s good to be out. I haven’t realized how badly I needed a change of scenery.

  By the time we get to the floor, there are two lines of dancers. I slip into the back in case I make a fool of myself, but it doesn’t take long to get the hang of the steps. Nancy was right. This is fun.

  The guy in front of us dances like someone with a lot of practice. It’s obvious he’s enjoying himself. He’s dressed up for the occasion, wearing a Stetson, checkered shirt, dark jeans, and boots. He’s not from around here. When he turns again, I pay better attention to his face. He’s got an open, friendly smile and kind blue eyes. He looks older, maybe late twenties.

  Catching my gaze, he tilts his hat with a playful, “Ma’am,” before rolling his hips and kicking out his heel.

  Nancy elbows me. “Who is that man?”

  I shrug, trying not to trip over my own feet.

  “Well, hello cowboy,” she mutters, her gaze glued to his ass.

  I elbow her in turn, whispering, “You’re staring.”

  In the middle of laughing me off, she stops abruptly. Grabbing my arm, she points at the bar. I search the crowd until my gaze falls on Jan. He’s with a group from our class, throwing back shooters. It’s impossible to miss Kallie, who sits on an inflatable pool doughnut. If being shot weren’t so serious, I would’ve burst out laughing.

  “Want to go?” she asks.

  I’m having fun for the first time in three months. “I’m not running because of them.”

  “That’s my girl.” She gives me a thumbs-up.

  When the song ends, we go back to our table and order the chicken wing basket with fries and two sodas. The night is heavy with summer. Carefreeness is like a perfume in the air. I inhale it greedily, even if it’s only a short-lived illusion.

  “Mind if I join you ladies?” a male voice asks next to our table.

  The man with the Stetson looks between Nancy and me, but his gaze lingers a little longer on Nancy.

  “Oh, sure,” she says, shooting me a questioning look as an afterthought.

  “Of course,” I add for what it’s worth.

  “Steve.” He shakes Nancy’s hand, then mine.

  “I’m Nancy, and this is Kristi.”

  She moves up the bench to make space for him. “New in town?”

  “Just helping my dad move.”

  “To Rensburg?” she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief.

  “He’s a lawyer, and, well, since folks have to travel all the way to Johannesburg for legal consultations, he thought he’d open an office here.”

  “Here? Sorry,” Nancy says, “but I can’t imagine anyone from Johannesburg wanting to move to Rensburg.”

  “My mom died a few months ago. He thinks the change will be good. Plus, getting out of the rat race and all that.”

  She places a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

  “My condolences,” I add.

  “It was a long illness. We’re both relieved her suffering is over.”

  “For how long are you staying?”

  “Until Dad is settled. I’m one of two foremen at a hydroponic farm north of Pretoria, so my time is somewhat flexible. What about you girls? What do you do for a living?” He frowns. “You’re not still in school, are you?”

  “No,” Nancy says quickly. “I’m starting my first job in January at the brick factory.”

  “Does that mean you’re free over Christmas?”

  “Yeah.” Her cheeks turn bright pink. “Why?”

  Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe she’s blushing. She never blushes.

  �
�I’m planning on spending Christmas here with Dad. Maybe you could recommend some excursions?”

  “There are a few hiking trails and a lake that’s good for fishing.”

  “Do you fish?”

  “No,” she laughs, “but I’m more than happy to show you around.”

  His smile turns broader. “I’ll definitely take you up on the offer.” Making an obvious effort to include me in the conversation, he waves a hand at my bump. “How far along are you?”

  “Three months.”

  “I hope you don’t think I’m forward for asking.”

  “It’s actually a relief. Most people pretend they don’t notice.”

  “Getting married?”

  “Um, yeah.” I fiddle with the straw in my glass. “In a few days.”

  “If this is your hen’s night, I shouldn’t have gatecrashed.” He makes to get up.

  “No,” I say quickly. “It’s just a night out. You’re not intruding.”

  Nancy shoots me a grateful look.

  “In that case,” he holds a hand out at Nancy, “care for a dance?”

  She glances at me again.

  “Go on.” I wave them off. “I’m still too tired from the first round.” Besides, the line dancing has broken up and couples are two-stepping.

  With her cheeks still bright pink, Nancy accepts his proffered hand.

  He plants his Stetson on my head. “Hang on to that for me. I’m planning on taking your friend for a few fast spins around the floor.”

  Steve really is a skilled dancer. So is Nancy, but he’s giving her a good go. They’re both out of breath when they return to the table after dancing three songs back-to-back.

  “Sorry for leaving you alone for so long,” he says, shifting onto the bench next to me. “I’m getting your bill to make up for it.”

  “That’s kind but not necessary,” I say. “I enjoyed the show. You dance well together.”

  Nancy fans her face with the menu. “I can do with a glass of water.”

  “I’ll wave the waitress over.” He turns to me. “What would you like to drink, pretty pregnant lady?”